A complete desperation of the addiction that clouds my thoughts, subtle cracks to mark my path. Did we wake knowing we are going to die or do we tell our selves otherwise? How many souls have become lost inflicted by death.
Lost is covering a great deal of the puzzle I call life. The more I try to solve this riddle the more my mind begins to spin. Trying to make sense of the static, (nothing ever makes sense abstracted).
My mind runs in circles trying to keep up with the thoughts. Let my body rot among the dieing sun. Let me die like my desecrated adolescence.
Keep the light low so I can reach it.
Burning the memory's that used to make me laugh. Tell me how to get out of this rut because now, I'm just waiting to die.
This was magic, now only dust I guess its just the confusion of how it all happened.
About Me
- The visual feeling
- I am a current with thee ocean, wind and river. The way of my life is through motion always pushing myself through narrow crawl spaces or an open desert. I let mountains surround me they tower, topple over me like the endless clouds in winters life. I am of a tree and of a rock, because nature to be a village raising children.
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